


happy days & silent nights

by toxica939



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, Robron Secret Santa 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 22:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17211692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: three christmas kisses - snippets of christmases '14, '16 and '18





	happy days & silent nights

**Author's Note:**

> for @dinglecrain over on tumblr

**2014**

Robert's car is idling at the end of the road and Aaron breaks into a jog before he can stop himself, curses himself for looking so eager. He's spent all afternoon glowering away in the corner of the pub, body buzzing. Robert's text couldn't have come soon enough.

Robert pulls off as soon as Aaron's arse hits the seat, before he's even got his seat belt dragged across his chest. Maybe he's not the only one feeling eager.

“You get away alright?” Robert asks. He's lit by the dash in blue and black, dark pools where his eyes should be and in the dips of his cheeks. He's gotten changed, looks soft and warm in his jumper and coat. Aaron wants to touch him but doesn't know if he's allowed yet.

He looks at the road instead. “Yeah. It's a wedding reception, innit? No one cares what I'm doing,” a pause. “Did you-”

Robert cuts him off. “Yeah. I've got a few hours.”

A few hours. Aaron wants to ask how he's swung that, wants to know what's wrong with Chrissie that she'd rather he was alone on Christmas Day than at home with her. It makes him want to shake her. Can't she see that Robert's trying?

A hand settles over Aaron's thigh when they turn off the bypass, lifts so Robert can flick the headlights to full beam, and then settles back again. Robert's not looking at him, but his fingers squeeze, palm hot through Aaron's trousers. And that's all it takes, everything narrowing down to that touch, the five point press of Robert's fingertips. It prickles awareness through Aaron, heady and tight in his chest, heat flooding through him. He's never wanted anyone like this.

He holds his breath when he slides his own hand over Robert's, doesn't dare look down, in case he draws attention to it and Robert pulls away. He traces the bumps of Robert's knuckles, strokes down between them when Robert's fingers spread to give him room.

Aaron's breath shudders out of him, yellow-lit hedgerows blurring at the corners of his vision. His heartbeat feels like it's visible, thumping away at his ribs.

Robert doesn't pull away until he's steering the car off the road, bumping over dirt track for a while before easing to a stop.

They're in the middle of nowhere, far enough from civilisation that when Robert flicks the headlights off they disappear, dashboard muting. Robert's watery in the moonlight, just a flash of eyes and teeth.

Aaron gives his eyes a minute to adjust, head rolled toward Robert on the seat back. His body is humming, still breathless from the intimacy of holding hands like this is more than it is.

Robert reaching for him feels like something Aaron makes happen, maybe his body lifts into the touch before it connects, but then Robert's leaning across the centre console, one hand braced on the seat between Aaron's spread thighs, enough pressure against his balls to make him tingle. Aaron's hands make fists in Robert's coat to drag him closer, chin tilting to crush their lips together while his blood rushes in his ears.

Robert hangs there when they part for breath, nose dragging against Aaron's. “Back seat?” he proposes, fingers hooking between the buttons of Aaron's shirt to find skin.

Aaron swallows, he's painfully aware that he's panting and that Robert knows it's for him. He nods, but draws Robert back in for another kiss first, softer this time, just to prove he can, that Robert will let him.

Robert's breath sighs out of him, shoulders sagging under Aaron's wandering hands like his strings have been cut.

Back seat, Aaron thinks. In a minute.

**2016**

His mum was right; it is slippy. Aaron has to wind an arm around Robert's waist to keep him upright.

“You're hammered,” Aaron tells him, ducking his head so Robert can throw his own arm over his shoulders, the pair of them bumping down the path until they find their rhythm with it.

“Don't be daft,” Robert says. “I only had a couple.”

“You had about five,” Aaron tells him. “I'm practically carrying you here.”

Robert scoffs. “You wish.”

Aaron squeezes him closer, cheek pressing briefly against the inside of his shoulder, to let him know there's no hard feelings. There's nothing but good feelings actually, a brightly lit jumble of them wrapped up with his insides. Robert Sugden, drinking and joking with Aaron's family, Aaron's ring on his finger, Aaron's little sister under his arm while she squirmed to escape – it's a lot. More than he ever thought he'd get.

Robert shakes him, leans on his a little bit heavier. “Don't go quiet on me, I think I might start singing.”

“Don't you dare.”

Robert laughs, chest shaking, and Aaron knows what's coming as soon as his head tips back. “It's Christmas Eve babe, in the drunkta-”

Aaron claps his hand over Robert's mouth, the rest lost to damp breath and vibration against his palm. It makes Robert laugh even harder, the pair of them grappling with each other while Aaron tries to shush him.

Robert doesn't sober until he's got both his arms around Aaron's neck, bellies pressed together. “I had a good time,” Robert says. “Honestly, I thought it was going to be horrendous-”

“Thanks.”

“-But it was actually alright. I'd probably do it again next year.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, trying and failing not to be charmed. “You reckon?”

Robert nods, moving closer, fingers cold on the back of Aaron's neck, voice a warm murmur. “I reckon. Every year, even.”

His mouth is soft and wet, and he tastes like alcohol, sticky and sweetly sharp with it. Aaron lets himself be wrapped up, the pair of them kissing like Robert's got him backed up against the bedroom door instead of spotlit by Pollard's security light.

Robert pulls away eventually, grins at him. “This was good,” he allows. “But, maybe when we're married. Maybe we could do Christmas just us. And Liv, obviously.”

“With my lot? You'll be lucky,” Aaron says, but it's an afterthought, _when we're married_ echoing in his head until his ears are ringing with it.

Robert's laugh fogs between them. “I suppose I can't pretend I didn't know what I was signing up for. Come on then, I'm freezing my bollocks off out here.”

They start walking again, Robert's arm still draped over Aaron's shoulders, keeping him tucked into Robert's side. They use the torch on Robert's phone to get them back to the village, Robert grumbling about how they should have got a taxi every time he skids on the snow and ice, and Aaron weighing the pros and cons of letting him fall on his arse every time his moaning trips over into irritating.

By the time they stumble through the back door of the pub they're both red cheeked, teeth chattering. Aaron's fingers start to burn before he's even got his coat hung up and he rubs his hands together, hissing.

“Do you want another or are we going to bed?” Robert's asking. He's stood in the back room, in the dark but for the tacky silver Christmas tree Aaron's mum always puts up, twinkly lights throwing a disco across the ceiling. They remind Aaron of being a kid; the smell of tinsel and getting to stay up late, not wanting Christmas to be over.

He feels a bit like that now, even though it's definitely gone midnight already.

“Might as well have another,” he says.

They slump together on the sofa, beers open and a swig down on the coffee table.

“You know,” Robert says, smoothing a hand down his chest. “These aren't actually that bad. You look sort of cute.”

Aaron scoffs, head on Robert's shoulder. “Cute. Fuck off.”

“No I mean it, you're all snuggly.”

That gets him an elbow in his side, but it's half hearted.

Robert's hand comes up, stroking through Aaron's hair. It's gentle, makes his eyelids feel heavy even though the rest of him feels like it's floating.

**2018**

Aaron wakes up to the sound of the door clicking closed, rolls himself over on to his back with a groan.

Robert's got a mug in each hand, dressing gown hanging open over his pants. “Merry Christmas,” he whispers, and he waits until Aaron's sitting up against the pillows to pass him a brew and climb back under the duvet.

“Cheers,” Aaron says, voice morning rough. “Merry Christmas. Liv not up?”

Robert shakes his head, blowing across the top of his cup. “Didn't hear anything. I'll get her up in a bit, thought we could do presents with breakfast.”

Aaron nods, head still sleep fuzzy. “Sounds good.”

The tea is hot and milky, just how he likes it, and they sit together, legs stretched out under the covers, until their cups are empty.

“I could probably do with a shower,” Aaron says, taking Robert's cup off him and twisting to put them on his bedside table. He's got come crusted in the hair on his belly and he tries to pick at it discreetly.

Robert hmms. “In a minute,” he says, dragging Aaron down the bed and rolling on top of him.

Aaron oofs, slapping at him. “Get off, I can't breathe.”

“Shut up,” Robert says, dipping down for a tea flavoured kiss. Aaron goes with it, because he's good like that, even wraps an arm over Robert's shoulders to hold him close.

Robert eases back, forehead pressed to Aaron's. “Merry Christmas, husband,” he says, a blur of a smile on his face.

Aaron screws his head back into the pillow so he can look at him, see him here; in their bed, in their home. He never thought they'd get here, time was, he didn't even dare think about it.

“Merry Christmas, husband,” Aaron says. He blinks back tears, feeling ridiculous.

Robert grins, rising over Aaron on his elbows. “Your face has gone all sappy,” he says.

“No it hasn't.”

“It has. Are you about to tell me I'm the best Christmas present you've ever had? You are, aren't you?”

Aaron puts a hand over his eyes, groaning. “Remind me why I married you again.”

It's impressive really, that Robert can look like that at this time of the morning. No one should be allowed to smile like that before breakfast. “I'm fit and I put my tongue in your arse whenever you ask?” Robert suggests.

Aaron screws his face up, aroused by the reminder, despite himself. “I hate you.”

Robert shakes his head, nose knocking back and forth against Aaron's. “No you don't.”

“No,” Aaron sighs, hands cupping Robert's face to tip their mouths together again. He doesn't.

_Merry Christmas, husband._

 

**Author's Note:**

> join me on tumblr, i'm vckaarrob. you probably need to re-follow me, don't ask


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